


larger than life and death both

by HogwartsToAlexandria



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Cult-like Society and Rituals, Anal Sex, Arranged Marriage, Bruises, Forced Consumption of Arranged Marriage, Forced Marriage, Forced to have sex to beget an heir, Gentler Sex, Hopeful Ending, Hulk Sex (Marvel), M/M, Painful Sex, Rape/Non-con - Freeform, Rimming, Rough Sex, Sex Rituals, loss of consciousness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:48:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27974678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HogwartsToAlexandria/pseuds/HogwartsToAlexandria
Summary: They did not even know each other when they were married to one another. Had never seen the other, let alone talked, forget talked without anyone in the room altogether.Tony's pleas hadn't mattered, and he could take a wild guess as to how Bruce's protests might have gone.And yet, today was the day where their fates would be sealed to one another's, and the day they were expexted to conceive an heir.
Relationships: Bruce Banner/Tony Stark, Hulk/Tony Stark
Comments: 4
Kudos: 55
Collections: Consent Issues Exchange 2020





	larger than life and death both

**Author's Note:**

  * For [inalasahl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/inalasahl/gifts).



They did not even know each other when they were married to one another. Had never seen the other, let alone talked, forget talked without anyone in the room altogether. 

Tony's pleas hadn't mattered, and he could take a wild guess as to how Bruce's protests might have gone. The shiner below his right eye during the ceremony had been telling enough. The shaking of his hands was certainly telling. They were turning a pale green in Tony's grasp while their fathers' chosen minister went on and on about vows and choosing each other like they'd had a say in any of it. Bruce's lips too, kept moving, and the little Tony could hear, it seemed like Bruce was trying to keep calm. 

Tony could relate.

But if they'd thought that the wedding ceremony was the worst of it, they were sorely mistaken, because after one had vowed themselves to someone in their circle, the only way to prove to the elders the vows would hold was to consummate the marriage. 

Consummate his union to a stranger, with an audience.

Tony had known about this part all along. Had known it since he was old enough to understand what a wedding was and how babies were made. It was the goal after all, beget offspring to further the line, to carry on the good names of Stark and Banner. Names that the whole of the upper New York society recognized as leading families. 

It was Tony's duty, and if he wished not to be cast away, if he wished to protect himself from either becoming a paria, or worse and actually more likely, have his father kill him in anger, he had to go through with it. 

Tony watched Bruce's eyes throughout the entire ceremony. The last few minutes of their illusionary freedom - they were never free and never would be, unless they did as they were told a little while longer. Unless they abandoned all sense of propriety when it came to their integrity of their bodies and both chained and threw themselves in in the other's arms like they'd been dictated to. 

They were not free until one of them was pregnant, and Tony knew it would probably be him, but only the minister could tell them that. Only the minister had the power to decide who was meant to carry the heir to his and Bruce's names. To his and Bruce's duty to their families. 

The key to their future perhaps, if Tony could muster enough courage to escape, for the good of the child that would be, but didn't have to exist in the same constraints his fathers' had. He could only hope he would be strong enough.

So there was an audience, made of Tony's father, and of Bruce's father, and of the same minister who had married them - Tony was only grateful his mother was not present, little mercies he found in the misogynist protocols of the upper class. 

There was also a bed, richly draped in sheets of silk, the deep red of them shining even in the low light the room was bathed in. He might have loved it if he hadn't been forced to be here. In fact, he knew he would have, might have touched it with his fingertips and closed his eyes at how soft and cool the silk would have felt against his skin. He did none of that. 

"Let us proceed." The minister intoned, then sat down in one of the three chairs lined up with the end of the bed, a few feet away from it. 

"Let us be proud." Bruce's father said, looking Bruce in the eye with a somber, threatening expression that gave Tony chills. 

"Let us celebrate a Stark-Banner heir being born." Howard added, and Tony, try as he might, could not not look at him. He wished he hadn't. Howard Stark had never been a warm, inviting man, but in this moment, Tony really understood what the world meant when it referred to him as the man made of iron. 

That's when Tony's world darkened even further. Instead of sitting down with Howard and the minister, Bruce's father walked up to him and Bruce, giving Tony a once-over filled with disdain before he turned to his son and manhandled him by his collar until he turned around. He ripped Bruce's shirt off him, pushed him around until he could access his hip, and produced a needle filled with a green liquid Tony hadn't seen him carry. 

The effect of the product on Bruce was almost instant. 

He fell to his knees with a grunt of pain the likes of which Tony wished he wasn't familiar with, but which instead made him wince in sympathy, his eyes wide, horrified and ignorant of the purpose of the medicine Bruce had just been administered. He had no idea what would happened. Nothing, none of the stories he had been told, none of the warnings his father had given him before this day, there wasn’t a word uttered about his fiancé getting stabbed with a needle and collapsing in front of him and their three witnesses. 

All Tony knew was, it was hell. Had to be. 

In less time than it had taken the minister to marry them, Tony saw his life go through his mind in flashes. Fragments of memories, moments both happy and not, and everything he'd wanted to accomplish one day. Everything he'd wanted to do, and which now stood behind the rather massive and absolutely terrifying obstacle of this day, and the way his fiancé started contorsioning on the floor. 

Bruce was groaning, whimpering in pain and shouting in what very much sounded like rage. He was bending one way, then the next, still on his knees, still with his back to Tony, not letting him see any of his expressions - not that it was necessary for Tony to get just how much agony he was in. 

If Tony saw the other three men leave the room, he did not make notice of it until later. Until Bruce did turn around, but in the stead of the rather soft-looking, trust-inspiring man Tony had had to hold hands with as they were married, something else entirely stood, staring right into Tony's eyes, unmoving. For a moment, a short one, a reflex really, Tony considered crying for help. He also considered running in the opposite direction, and very nearly did so, except he couldn't, because two gigantic hands closed on his shoulders as he tried to move away, and the green face that only vaguely resembled Bruce anymore was an inch away from Tony's, and it didn't look happy. 

"HULK!" the green _thing_ , monster didn't quite seem to cut it, said, or grunted, or something. And then repeated it when Tony only gasped in pain at how strongly he was being held in place, as if he should know what it meant, as if _"Hulk"_ was anything Tony had ever heard before, a word in a language he should have been speaking.

His lack of understanding only seemed to anger Greenie further, and Tony did not help his case - he rarely ever managed that, if he was honest. 

"Hulk! Hulk! Hulk! What the fuck does that even mean?" 

That last word right there, Tony ended up yelling halfway throughout it, rendering it intelligible only in his mind. Greenie had lost his apparently very short fused patience and thrown him - _thrown_ him! - on the bed Tony had tried to ignore up until now. 

Which was also the moment he realized he and not-Bruce were now alone in the room. 

They could have been chatting, actually talking to one another for once, discovering if they were on the same page and ready to strategize a way out of here, out of this life and out of this society they were trapped in. Instead, Tony was getting more and more terrified by the second. 

There were no exits. Greenie was stronger than him and nothing in the room would allow him to take the upper hand, no chair laying around he could have swung on its huge head, no random book or rock or fucking pickaxe. He was alone, with something, or someone, big and powerful enough to have thrown him into the air and onto the bed like one cast a stone at the lake, like he weighed nothing at all, like he could have done it in his sleep. 

Terror was one word for it, and immense sadness, and despair, were others he could apply to his situation. No exits and no saviors and no fiancé to run away with, even though Greenie was, somehow, Bruce. Bruce was somewhere in there-

"Bruce?" Tony tried, but that too, turned out to be the wrong thing to say. 

"NO! HULK!" Greenie yelled, and that's when Tony understood. 

Through his teeth chattering with fear, Tony asked, "That's your name? Hulk is your name?"

The smile Greenie gave him would have to be answer enough. Maybe if Tony had been less ready to shit his pants he would have been reassured by the creature's ability to even smile. But he was ready to disappear into a tiny little hole in the mattress at that point, so marvelling at an immense being's equally immense smile was not on the menu. Thanks. 

So it was called Hulk, which did not exactly change the way Tony felt about this whole thing, and did not help prevent what happened next either, which was - Tony lost his clothes. And not the way he could never remember where he put his car keys because Happy had always handled his cars, or like he sometimes lost a wrench while he worked, unsure where he'd last put it down as he thought or used another tool for a while. He lost his clothes because Hulk decided he didn't need them, and tore them off him.

It hurt. The seams pulling tight and tighter around him until, eventually, the loudest tearing noise echoed around the room and Hulk had both shreds of his shirt and pieces of his jeans and underwear in his giant fist, and Tony was naked. Bare ass naked in a bed not his and with Hulk's big, black eyes staring at him like he looked good enough to be someone's snack - Hulk's snack.

And then Hulk evidently decided that he did not need clothes either, and there went the last of Bruce's clothes that had not yet broken around the much larger, much taller frame of Hulk's body. 

Tony did shout this time. Couldn't help it. Terror was one thing when it stayed in the realm of abstraction. But if he and Bruce, now Hulk, were to complete the last part of the wedding today, and therefore to conceive an heir the only way an heir can be conceived, then- then it meant...

It meant that Tony would have to welcome the most massive, and the longest cock he had ever seen in his life and certainly had never dreamed of taking. 

Preparations for a wedding like Tony's included physical stretching - and not of the kind that has you reaching for the sky with your hands while standing on your toes. The kind that required you to have lube on hand and to really go at it with as many fingers as you could. 

Tony knew he was stretched enough for Bruce. 

He did not think he was stretched enough for Hulk.

He was not. 

Shouting was not as sexy an option now that he knew nothing, and no one would ever come to help him. It was a familiar feeling, too, that of knowing he was alone to face the hurt and ache of his father's ire, or in this case, wishes. 

Tony would be impregnated by the largest cock that must ever have existed. He would be fucked within an inch of his life for hours to ensure the family names were passed on to an heir that would make their lineage proud. 

He cried. Tears of horror and all-consuming resignation. 

He would be Hulk's toy, for however long Hulk could go, or until the sun went down, as tradition wanted. An heir before sundown. 

Hulk was ready for the both of them. 

Tony felt dwarfed. He knew he wasn't tall or as built as his father may have pictured him before he was even born, but laying under Hulk, unable to leave, scramble off the bed and out of this room forever, helpless, he had never felt this small. 

The feeling of having no exits, he knew about, but this was an entirely new realm of fear, and he really could not do anything about it but take it. No help, no reprieve but that of Hulk being done, and Tony thought, if his size was anything to go by, his endurance must outrun that of ten men. 

He yelped, outright yelped and hated himself for it, when after studying his face so carefully, Hulk decided to flip him over, again, like Tony's entire body was barely heavier than a dead leaf. He flipped him, and hiked his body further up the bed, one of his big hands pushing Tony's face into the pillows while the other slipped under his stomach and raised his ass up. 

He cried, silent tears of confusion when the next thing he felt was a wet, unbearably hot and slippery contact from his balls to his tailbone — Hulk was licking him up, and it couldn't have taken Tony by surprise more than it did. He was licking him open with a tongue bigger than Tony's wrist. 

Tony didn't know if it was the act itself, the astonishment he felt at being the recipient of it, or his twisted mind playing a trick on him but he gasped through his tears when, as Hulk's tongue pushed inside him, somehow, his cock stirred to life. 

It was mortifying, how quickly he became engorged, his cock and balls a heavy, needy weight between his legs, brushing the immensity of Hulk's wrist around his waist with every lick of the creature past his rim. 

Tony didn't know if his whimpers came out of fear or arousal anymore. Didn't know if he cried from the pain he thought he could already feel, or from the shocked pleasure of being tongue-fucked when he thought he would be ruined without further preparation. 

Hulk was making him ready for him. He was helping. And enjoying himself as he did so, if the guttural sounds that came crashing against Tony's ass were true. 

It didn't last much longer, and yet, without having much felt the stretch of it, Tony felt like his ass was gaping open by the time Hulk drew back. 

In the short time it took Hulk to reposition the both of them for what would come next, Tony thought, if Bruce had tried to fuck him with his entire forearm, it wouldn't have left him feeling as open as he did then. He was slick with the spit of five men, one Hulk, so much so that it dripped down his thighs and made Hulk's rough fingers slip further down, and Tony moaned outright at the image his mind formed for him.

It made no sense, to be this scared, and yet this aroused. To be horrified, and yet have both his body and mind so on board with the plan every clumsy, jerky touch of Hulk's single-minded paws on him pushed electrical signals up his brain — electrified him indeed. 

Perhaps his mind knew it had to catalog as much of this as he could, perhaps it knew that what came next would be too much to even remember. Perhaps, Tony was experiencing every single second of his being fucked by Hulk so he could understand his reactions better later, as he would need to understand them, to put it past him, if such a thing was possible. 

Because the truth was, when Hulk's enormous body came towering over his own, and then lowered to stick to Tony's back, concealing all of him from view but his legs, spread as far as they could go to accommodate Hulk's gigantic hips, Tony blacked out. 

He blacked out just after he felt the biggest, wettest, hottest cockhead he could ever have thought existed, let alone felt breach his hole. He blacked out in increments. Dots of white and gray danced in his vision, making him swim in a rather unsteady ocean of disorientation — where the sheets under him where rougher than the hands gripping his hips, where his tears tasted the same as the precome leaking inside him through the largest slit on the largest dick must have... He swam, and his moans became even more incoherent, and Hulk's breath, torrents of wind in his hair, whispered the loudest whisper of Tony's name, like a calling, like a shoutout, like an endearment, and Tony's mind went to sleep, thinking of Bruce, and of how soft his hands had felt in his own as they were married to one another, thinking of the future they could maybe have, if he survived this.

He had nightmares about his baby being green and calling itself Hulk Jr. He had dreams of his husband forever being green. Had visions of his being somewhat happy with Hulk in the same dichotomy that had allowed his cock to fill, hot and needing, with fear and arousal, he would be scared yet appreciative of the little whispers of his name that would rattle the house with how strong the voice uttering them would be. 

Tony dreamt, and he thrashed in the bed, but in his sleep, all he knew was his body was heavy, heavier than it had ever felt and all he could see were glimpses of Bruce, and glimpses of Greenie, and the uncertain image of their child, like a blurry photograph, all melting together as he rested. 

* * *

"Tony? Tony?" 

"Tony?" 

"Wake up, please… please, wake up…" 

Tony frowned in his sleep. He tossed around some more. He winced immediately and froze. 

In his dreams nothing had hurt. He'd only felt heavy, so heavy, so much heavier than he ever had before. But now things did hurt. A whole fucking lot. And that voice, whispering his name…

It was a real whisper. And it was so soft it was almost painful and Tony thought he knew it but he couldn't quite pinpoint it, and he couldn't quite open his eyes either. His body and mind had taken him out of the equation of the scariest moment of his life and for that he was so grateful he could cry — he didn't want to go back there if it wasn't over.

But—

"Tony, please, say something, anything, I need to know he didn't hurt you too much…" the voice sobbed, and Tony's frown deepened. 

He? 

"He?" He croaked, the strength it took to say even that simple word, and to open his eyes to a slit, it was so much, Tony thought he might black out again. 

He didn't though, not when he saw the person talking to him was Bruce, a naked, intensely worried, and bruised Bruce. 

Tony almost wanted to sit up so he could look at him better, almost wanted to ask a million questions and jam his pointer finger in the man's sternum with accusations and reprimands. No way he could have done that though, even if Bruce didn't look miserable himself. 

"Hulk?" Bruce answered him, barely loud enough to be heard. 

Tony hummed, taking stock of his body without moving. 

"Am I pregnant?" He asked. He sounded drunk with how slurred his words got. He knew that, but he had to know. Had to find out if all this had at least been worth something. Had to know he could now go on with his plans for the future and their kid. 

Bruce's eyes filled with tears as Tony tried to sit up, tried to get closer to him so maybe he would answer faster. It hurt like a bitch, and maybe he was grateful for Bruce's hands coming up to his shoulders to steady him, but it almost drove home just how different, how so much softer Bruce's hands were. How it could have been.

"Father used the serum thinking it would bring out Hulk enough that I would go through the ritual without resistance, not that he would fully take over." Bruce started explaining, and his voice was so grave Tony's aches and pains both flared up and slid to the background of his awareness. Bruce's hands were still on his naked shoulders and Tony tried to focus on them rather than what he thought was trying to tell him, rather than accept the inkling of an answer he thought he was getting. "Hulk is not fertile Tony. He's not…" Bruce's breath hiccupped as his eyes started leaking tears. Sadness and regret and anger all melted into the water that ran down his cheeks at the same time as Tony heard himself keen in the pain of what he was being told. "You're not pregnant, Tony." 

And the sun was not down yet. 

It wasn't over. 

"I'm so sorry…" Bruce cried, and cried harder when Tony joined him, his eyes closing under the force of his sobs, getting louder in his pain when Bruce joined their foreheads and Tony tried to get closer to him, chasing comfort and hurting every soreness in his body as he did so. "I'll be gentle, Tony, I promise, I'll be so gentle." 

He'd be gentle. Tony forced his eyes to open, forced his mind back from its breaking point, squared his jaw and forced a smile. It must have been the ugliest smile he'd ever managed, but it made Bruce close his arms around him in answer, and bury his face in Tony's neck, and it was already so much gentler, so much more careful than any touch Tony had ever experienced… he believed him. 

"Lie back down, let me take care of you." Bruce whispered again, and yet, his arms were still tightly wound around Tony, so they went down together, Bruce's naked body, Tony's equally bare one, both of them bruised and exhausted. 

They stayed, skin on skin, lips in necks and hands on hips, until Bruce found it in him to get hard, and he drew back just enough to penetrate Tony again, as himself this time. Telling whose tears wet whose cheeks quickly became impossible, but Bruce had told the truth, he was gentle. 

Tony thought maybe, this would be okay. _They_ would be okay. In the long run, out of this room and out of their fathers' grasp and influence. 

He thought maybe, life as a whole would be gentler from now on. 

He hoped so at least. 


End file.
